


Bludger to the Head; Arrow to the Heart

by ProcrastinatingPanda



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters | Pokemon - All Media Types, Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, First Meetings, Fluff, Hogwarts, M/M, Meet-Ugly, Minor Injuries, Quidditch, that should definitely be a tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-05
Updated: 2020-09-05
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:46:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26300641
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProcrastinatingPanda/pseuds/ProcrastinatingPanda
Summary: Turns out, that the higher beings don’t grant miracles without a price. Clemont learnt that when a bludger came flying at his face, the world fading to black.
Relationships: Citron | Clemont/Satoshi | Ash Ketchum
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	Bludger to the Head; Arrow to the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> If you're here, you probably know me from my other fic, Not Even In Another Universe. Well, school has just started, and I've been in a bit of a writer's block, but I didn't want to leave you guys with nothing, so here is this random Hogwarts AU that I quite enjoyed writing.

“Alright, that’s all we’ve got time for this lesson,” Professor Ramos rose from his chair. “And remember, you have an essay due next Tuesday on self-fertilising shrubs, and I expect no less than fifteen inches. Class dismissed. Have a good weekend.”

The students—a mix of Ravenclaws and Gryffindors—didn’t need to be told twice, scrambling to pack their books and wands away. Clemont liked herbology. He thought the content was interesting, which will be helpful later on in the year when he had to do his OWLs, now that he was in his fifth year at Hogwarts, and the teacher made lessons engaging. Plus, being surrounded by plants and sunlight was somewhat therapeutic.

“Hey Clemont,” Trevor tucked his wand in his robes. “Are you going to the Quidditch match this afternoon?”

“I am, actually. Who’s playing, again?”

“It’s Gryffindor against Slytherin,” Trevor adjusted his navy blue tie. “If it was any other year, I’d bet on Gryffindor anyway, but they’ve got that new transfer student. What’s his name? Ketchum?”

Unlike, what seemed to be, every person in the wizarding world, Clemont wasn’t very well acquainted with the world of Quidditch. He much preferred to spectate, half-listening to the commentator’s voice drone on about quaffles and bludgers, and seekers and chasers, and whatever else was involved with Quidditch. There were too many positions and too many balls, with an old-fashioned point system. What he was trying to get at was he’d much rather spend his time studying, or attempting to create another magic-technology hybrid invention (without blowing it up). 

But, Bonnie had come to Hogwarts this year. She was sorted into Gryffindor almost immediately after the sorting hat was put on her head, and Clemont couldn’t have been any happier for his little sister. He was determined to give her the best first year at Hogwarts, and that means giving her the full experience. Now that November has arrived, the Quidditch season has officially started, and to give Bonnie the full Hogwarts experience, he was obligated to go to watch a Quidditch match with her.

“Is he any good?” Clemont asked, as him and Trevor walked out of the greenhouses, and towards the Great Hall. 

“Tierno says he’s fast on his broom. Quick thinker, and agile, but also can attempt reckless stunts that are bound to get him injured.”

Clemont snorted, “Typical Gryffindor then,”

“Seems like it,” Trevor laughed, the two of them walking along the gravel path to the main entrance of the castle. “Apparently he tried out for chaser, but they think he could be the replacement seeker Gryffindor has been looking for, after their previous one graduated last year. Tierno said he’d be a terrific seeker if he took the position.”

“And, err, Tierno is a—”

“Beater,” Trevor finished for him, continuing on as if Clemont knew what a beater did. “He wouldn’t stop gushing over Ketchum’s broom. The Pikachu 10000, or maybe it was 9000?”

Broomsticks. That was another thing Clemont didn’t understand about the Quidditch world. Why were they important, and why were they so expensive? He sighed. He’d have to do a lot of catch up work on understanding Quidditch if he wanted to make Bonnie happy. Not to mention all those essays, and the duties as the new Ravenclaw prefect too. 

“Oh, Merlin,” Trevor stopped in his tracks, as they were about to enter the Great Hall. “I forgot that I’ve got duelling club today.”

“Shauna and Tierno would be waiting, right?” Clemont smiled, turning to face him. “You should go,” 

“You should come with us,” Trevor countered, “You can’t just stay in your boring wizard’s chess club, Mr. Ravenclaw Prefect. You’ve got to socialise more.”

Clemont scrunched up his nose. “I think I’m fine in my boring wizard’s chess club, thanks.”

“Which I would have no complaints about, if you actually talked to anyone in that club. You just sit in a corner by yourself, and play against yourself.”

He—he wasn’t  _ that _ sad. Okay, maybe he was, but it wasn’t his fault that he got paranoid everytime he mustered up the courage to go talk to someone. Him and Trevor had only become friends because they had been roommates since first year, and by extension, he knew Tierno and Shauna to a certain extent. Duelling club would actually be useful to him, as he wanted to be an auror and working on his inventions on the side, but the duelling club was popular, with large crowds, people all pushed up against each other to see the duel on stage and—no. That was too uncomfortable for Clemont to handle.

He shook his head. “I’ll see you at the Quidditch match later, Trevor.” Walking into the Great Hall to get that essay done for herbology, he turned away before Trevor could reply.

***

Clemont sighed, laying on his dorm room floor. His latest experiment was an air bubble that when thrown, could release the slow falling spell,  _ Arresto Momentum _ , in a two metre radius, ensuring the safety of someone in case they fell. It was all encompassed inside a small air mattress, that would inflate and fall to the ground when the spell was released to provide a safe landing. So far, no explosions, but he’d have to wait for the right time to test it out.

The sound of wings flapping outside their dormitory window forced Clemont to get up off the floor. Opening the window, his owl perched on the windowsill, a small note attached to his feet. Clemont unravelled the note. 

_ ‘I’m super excited for the Quidditch match! You better not chicken out. Meet you at the front entrance at 4.’ _

_ \- Bonnie xxx _

That was all the small letter said, but still it brought a smile to his face as he petted Luxray, his screech owl that has been with him since childhood. After eating lunch and completing his herbology essay, he went to the library to make some notes on the rules of Quidditch. Looking down at the scribbled words on the piece of parchment, he reviewed them one last time.

_ \- 7 players - 4 positions - 4 balls _

_ \- Keeper (1 person) - guards goalposts _

_ \- Chaser (3 people) - chases quaffle & scores - quaffle worth 10 points _

_ \- Beaters (2 people) - kept 2 bludgers away from their team and hit other team’s players _

_ \- Seeker (1 person) - catch golden snitch & ends game - snitch worth 150 points _

That seemed simple enough, right? He checked the time. 15:45. Knowing his luck with the staircases, he’ll probably end up at least 10 minutes late. He scrambled to get his things together, although he wasn’t sure what he needed for a Quidditch match. Ravenclaw wasn’t playing today, so there wasn’t any need for flags and banners. Was just his wand and his Quidditch notes enough? He looked back at the small air bag on the floor. His pockets in his robes were massive. It wouldn’t hurt to carry that around. 

Besides, it was just a precaution. It wasn’t as if anyone was actually going to get injured. 

Students from Ravenclaw were already making their way down the Ravenclaw Tower. Clemont hurried along, not wanting to hear Bonnie’s complaints if he’s late. He was actually somewhat excited to see this game. For one, it was with his little sister, so he’s bound to get some good entertainment watching her facial expressions when something happened. It wasn’t often that he took breaks like this to enjoy himself, between wanting to keep up his grades for him to become an auror, his love for mechanics and inventing, and reading books both fiction and non-fiction, he couldn’t remember the last time where he just passively watch something happen, and gotten enjoyment out of it.

“Come on, Clemont! Hurry up,” Bonnie waved her arms, showing off her Gryffindor pride with red and gold flags in her hands, barely able to control her excitement as she jumped up and down.

Clemont increased his pace. Swarms of students, mainly Slytherins and Gryffindors, flooded out of the front entrance and towards the Quidditch stadium. “Alright, alright. Let’s go.”

He grabbed Bonnie’s hand, and Clemont let the crowd guide them towards the Quidditch stadium, himself having been to the area of flat lawn for flying lessons next to the stadium more than the actual stadium itself. The ground had frosted over, the landscape around them in shades of grey and white. Clemont exhaled, seeing his breath condense into a white cloud, wishing that he had brought a scarf with him. At least Bonnie seemed cosy with her scarf and mittens in her house colours. 

“I’m so excited! This is going to be so much fun. I can’t wait to see all the chasers trying to catch the quaffle, and the beaters swinging their bats, like this—” Bonnie held an imaginary bat, swinging it to hit an imaginary bludger. “Oh! And the keepers throwing or kicking a quaffle away from the net. It’s always so cool when your team’s keeper does it, but terrible when the other team does it. And who can forget the seeker! The star of the show, catching the golden snitch!”

Clemont was glad he’d made his notes, tucked safely away in his inner pockets, or else he wouldn't have understood a single word Bonnie said. 

“Oh! And apparently the team has a new member. He’s the new guy. I think his name is Ash...Katcham? Kitchom?”

“Ash Ketchum?” Clemont helpfully supplied, remembering his earlier conversation with Trevor, the stadium coming into view.

“Oh, yeah! That’s the one. This is his debut match on the team—like a trial. Well, they already had tryouts, but it’s to see if he’s  _ actually _ actually good enough. He’s going to have to prove himself if he wants to show everyone, and especially those who have been on the reserve for years, that he deserves to be on the front line up, you know?” Clemont understood well enough, but he didn’t understand how Bonnie knew all of this stuff about Quidditch, despite having been at Hogwarts for only two months, but Bonnie carried on before he could question her. “I want Gryffindor to win! I mean, obviously, because I’m in Gryffindor, but I just don’t want Gryffindor to lose—especially to Slytherin. Right, Clemont? You want Gryffindor to win too, right?

“Yeah, of course,” His litter sister was in that house, and he knew Tierno, also from Gryffindor, playing on that team. He didn’t know anyone who was in Slytherin, so it doesn’t seem like he had much of a choice.

They went into the stadium, all the rest of the Gryffindors filling the space behind the Slytherin’s goal posts so they could cheer each time they saw the quaffle go through the hoop.

“But, Clemont. I want to sit where all of the other Gryffindors are sitting,” She whined, pouting at them not being able to get the seats she wanted.

“Next time, we can sit there.” Clemont promised, even though he didn’t know if he would voluntarily come to another match after this one, wincing as he was squished between Bonnie and another Gryffindor he didn’t know. “But, don’t you want to be able to see the full match? Here, we can see all of the players, and not just the ones near the goalpost. And, we’re right at the front too, so we can see all the action the most clearly.”

Bonnie considered it for a while, then beamed. “Yeah, that makes sense. Maybe sitting here isn’t so bad after all,”

Soon enough, both teams came out onto the pitch, greeted by both cheers and boos from both sides. The flying instructor, Madame Viola, stood in the centre of the pitch, her own broom in her hand. She was the referee, it seemed.

“As always, I want a fair game. From all of you.” She eyed the two teams, a silver whistle in her hands. “Mount your brooms.”

A sharp blow from Viola’s whistle, and fifteen brooms rose into the sky, four balls released into the pitch, and they were off.

“And here we go! The quaffle is taken by Gryffindor chaser Korrina Shalour, captain of the Gryffindor team. She’s really taking off—nice pass to Victoria Palmer, narrowly dodging that bludger from Slytherin beater Jessie Murrow—and back to Shalour and—Slytherin has taken the quaffle. Slytherin chaser Nathaniel O’Connor takes the quaffle, racing across the pitch. Is he going to try and score? He makes the shot and—stopped by Gryffindor keeper Parker Gonzales! Excellent move from him there. They say he’s the best keeper Gryffindor has had in the last decade for a reason.”

Clemont felt dizzy. The players were going so quickly from one end of the pitch to the other, passing the quaffle, beaters smashing bludgers that seem to be coming from left and right, up and down, despite there only being two of them. There should be an easier way to spectate Quidditch. One that doesn’t involve so much head turning. He doesn’t know how the commentator—which he now recognised as a Ravenclaw in his fourth year—could manage to keep up.

“They look so cool! Don’t they look cool, Clemont?” Bonnie clung on to his arm, her other hand pointing towards the pitch.”

“Yeah, they do.” Clemont didn’t understand the game, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t appreciate the hard work and training the players went through. 

“Ouch! Shalour takes a bludger to the back of the head from beater James Morgan. That must have hurt—should get it checked out at the end of the game. But, that doesn’t stop her! She takes the quaffle. To chaser Miles Glynn. Back to Shalour. To Palmer. She beautifully dodges a flying bludger. Slytherin keeper Davina Brown dives—misses and—Gryffindor scores!”

Gryffindors screamed and cheered, whilst Slytherins booed and jeered on the other side of the pitch.

“Yes!” Bonnie cheered, “We’ve scored! But that Slytherin keeper is really pretty. Oh, she’s a keeper! Not as in, like the Quidditch keeper—she already is a keeper in Quidditch—but she could totally be your bride Clemont!”

Clemont could feel himself turn bright red. “Bonnie, you can’t just say things like that. Do you know how utterly embarrassing—”

“What did we miss?”

Clemont turned around to see Trevor, along with Shauna and another Hufflepuff girl with brown hair he didn’t recognise.

“Gryffindor just scored.”

“Did they now? Come on, Serena. We’ll go over here to cheer Tierno on.”

“Ah, okay,” The Hufflepuff girl—Serena—followed Shauna to a free space to watch the rest of the game.

“Man, I can’t believe I was late.” Trevor somehow managed to squeeze next to Clemont, despite there being no space, paying no mind to the glare he received from the Gryffindor next to him. “Got caught up in some hot water with Professor Anistar.”

“Professor Anistar? Divination? How did you manage to do that?”

“Long story. I’ll tell you about it later—”

“O’Connor takes the quaffle from Glynn. To chaser Evan Durham, and now—yikes! A nicely aimed bludger from Gryffindor beater Tierno Harrison sends Durham spinning on his broom, but O’Connor saves the quaffle! He’s racing to score. Dodging another bludger—Merlin, where did that come from? Anyway, it’s to Alissia Bryan, and back to O’Connor, and I think Bryan is going in for the shot, and here she goes—and she scores! Gryffindor and Slytherin are neck and neck.”

That remained true for the majority of the game. Gryffindor scored, and then Slytherin scored, and then it was Gryffindor again, both teams’ offenses and defenses used to the maximum. Before he knew it, both teams were at seventy points, and the golden snitch was nowhere in sight. 

“Neither team are letting each other up, are they?” Trevor ran a hand through his ginger hair. “Either one team needs to somehow seize the momentum and make it theirs, or—”

“The seeker needs to catch the snitch, right?” Bonnie said, “And then end the game.”

“Exactly, otherwise it would end up in some kind of stalemate.” Trevor sighed, “No sign of the snitch yet though—wait. Was that the snitch?”

Sure enough, a flicker of gold appeared behind the Slytherin chaser, Nathaniel O’Connor, and the chase began.

“Spoke too soon, I guess.” Trevor said.

Before Clemont could respond, or laugh, a gust of wind blew over him, with a flash of gold, followed by a red and gold blur. 

“The Gryffindor seeker, Ash Ketchum, has spotted the snitch! This would be his debut match, not only on the Gryffindor team, but in Hogwarts. Look at him go! That speed. Oh, and Bryan has the quaffle too! Will Slytherin score first? Or will Ketchum catch the snitch for Gryffindor? There goes the Slytherin seeker Arianna Wilkins, right on Ketchum’s heel. Who will it be—Ketchum or Wilkins?”

Clemont was transfixed on the Gryffindor seeker. He couldn’t quite tell what the seeker looked like, with the Slytherin girl sometimes blocking his view, and both of them flying around so fast, but he caught a glimpse of raven hair, and tanned skin, and Clemont felt weirdly inclined to want to get to know him better. Why does he like Quidditch so much? What made him transfer to Hogwarts? He remembered Trevor saying that Ketchum had originally tried out for chaser. Clemont could see why. He didn’t move like any of the other players on the pitch. It was a weird mix of bold, yet graceful, and carefully calculated, that seemed like they would all clash together, but didn't. What was going through the boy’s mind? The crowd held their breath as the two seekers rose higher and higher, the golden snitch just out of their reach. But, Clemont’s focus was only on the boy in red and gold.

The snitch took a sharp turn. It flew downwards. The new Gryffindor seeker jumped off his broom. The crowd gasped.

_ Stupid, reckless, typical Gryffindors. _

Before Clemont even realised what he was doing, he hurled his airbag creation directly underneath the seeker. He screwed his eyes shut, silently praying to whatever higher being there was above that it wasn’t going to explode. For some sort of miracle to happen. What if it did explode? Would he be expelled for causing major injury to another student—someone who’s new at that? And, what may be worse, what would happen if it  _ didn’t _ explode? Would he be praised for saving a fellow wizard’s life? Or criticised for mixing witchcraft and wizardry with muggle technology? Only one way to find out.

He opened one eye, and then another. The seeker was being lowered down, the snitch in his palms, the effects of  _ Arresto Momentum _ , the airbag inflating underneath him to land his fall. No explosions.

“You did it,” Bonnie whispered, more to herself than Clemont. “I can’t believe it.”

“I did it?” Clemont whispered. Then he laughed breathlessly. “I did it. It actually worked. It worked—”

Turns out, that the higher beings don’t grant miracles without a price. Clemont learnt that when a bludger came flying at his face, the world fading to black.

**Author's Note:**

> Part 2?


End file.
